


[Don't] Try and Stop Me

by drunkoncoffee



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 15x03 coda, Angst, Angst and Feels, Dean Winchester Does Not Deal With Things, Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings, Destiel - Freeform, M/M, Season/Series 15, Season/Series 15 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:06:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23741275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drunkoncoffee/pseuds/drunkoncoffee
Summary: “You’re the one who walked out.”“I don’t remember you trying to stop me.”15x03 coda
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 10
Kudos: 101





	[Don't] Try and Stop Me

“You’re the one who walked out.”

The words are met with silence and Dean regrets them as soon as he says them. He silently curses himself, but he’s too proud, too stubborn, to take them back now.  
Cas is looking at him, his usual intense stare boring into Dean’s eyes. His own blue ones are blazing with anger and his jaw is clenched. Dean watches as his hand twitches, watches all the physical restraints Cas takes in order to remain calm.  
Some stupid part of Dean wants to make him crack. He wants him to shout and shove and unleash his well-deserved anger on Dean. He wants Cas to get angry, to drop the calm mask he puts up, and just shout.  
But that’s not Cas. Cas is the one to take the higher road always, leaving Dean to descend further and further into his pit of self-loathing and regret.

Dean finally breaks the contact, turning away from Cas. He closes his eyes, running a hand over his face, and exhaling shakily. He knows he should take back what he said, - heck, he should take back years worth of stuff he’s said to Cas. But it’s all too fresh, all too heavy in the room. It’s all too -

“I don’t remember you trying to stop me.” 

Something in Dean’s gut twists at this; the impassive tone in Cas’ voice, yet Dean can hear the hint of hurt laced in his words. And Dean curses himself again. He turns to face Cas, who’s standing strong, yet the glassy look in his eyes betrays his defiant demeanour. He’s barely holding himself together, - Dean knows this -, and all for the sake of him.  
Dean, who doesn’t deserve a damn bit of Cas’ restraint or sympathy, who’s too emotionally stunted to properly work through his emotions, and loss, and feelings. Who wouldn’t even know where to begin with Cas; the man who’s slowly carved himself a place in Dean’s life and heart. Dean can’t even show him what he means to him. He can’t, dammit.  
He opens his mouth, trying to choke out a few sounds, but nothing comes out. Every word in his mind is clumsy and insensitive and he knows he can’t afford to mess this up anymore than he already has. 

“I’m no good with words Cas, you know this,” Dean manages finally, huffing out a breath and bringing his hand to his eyes to run over them, “I try to get the words out right, but I - I can’t. Words don’t fit right in my mouth.”

“They seem to fit just fine when you want them to.”

Dean lifts his head to meet Cas, whose eyes are unforgiving and hard. Dean clenches his jaw, narrowing his eyes. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You know damn well what it means Dean.” Cas’ voice was raised now. He takes a step towards Dean, drawing himself up to full height. “You claim you can’t find the ‘right words’, claim they don’t work or don’t fit. But you have no damn problem telling me, each and every time I make a mistake, - trying to do something right-.” He stalks towards Dean now, his eyes blazing with such anger that Dean takes a step back. “You have no problem telling me how damn worthless I am to you. How much of a burden I am on you. How I don’t _fit_ with you.” He stops less than a metre from Dean now, his fists clenched in frustration and his breathing laboured. Dean just stares at him, jaw tensed, determined not to let his hurt show.

Cas shakes his head and lets out a shaky breath, averting his gaze from Dean. When he speaks again, his tone is cold. “I don’t think you have a problem with words Dean; I think you have a problem not being cruel.”

Dean clenches his jaw further, an ache beginning to spread across his face, but he can’t let Cas see his tears. He can't let Cas know that he's right, with every word he says. Dean looks up at the ceiling, desperately blinking back any tears that cloud his eyes.  
He hears Cas let out a sigh of resignation, and out of the corner of his eye he sees him lean against the table. Silence surrounds them, both knowing they’re breaching uncharted, unspoken territory. 

“I’m done trying to talk to you Dean.” Cas’ resigned tone breaks the silence. “I’ve waited for you; for years I’ve waited patiently as you dealt with your issues, tried to open yourself up more. But -,” Cas clears his throat, “ - but I’m starting to think I’m wasting my time.”  
Dean squeezes his eyes shut tight, feeling a few stray tears betray his indifferent demeanour. Something claws up this throat, gripping tight on his breathing and he tries desperately to keep it down.

“I can’t do this anymore Dean. What I did may have been wrong, but I did it without malicious intent. How you’re treating me now,” Cas let out a humourless laugh, “It’s cruel and you know it. So, now I will finally give you what you seem so desperate to have: a life without problems. A life without something ‘going wrong’.” The spite in his words makes Dean flinch. 

“A life without me.”

Dean can feel bile rising in his throat at the mere thought. He can’t even search for the right words to say to fix this, to reassure Cas. All he can do is focus on his breathing and try not to fall to his knees before the man he loves.

Cas takes his silence as confirmation, his face now wet with tears. He lets out a sigh; one of defeat, and turns towards the door. After taking a few steps, he turns back to address Dean, his voice quiet and laced with hurt:  
“I know we aren’t supposed to talk about it. I know there’s some unspoken thing here that we’re just supposed to ignore until you’re ready. But I’ve shown you how I feel, over and over again, heck,” His voice breaks, “I’ve even told you. And you know, a few times, I allowed myself to believe you’d let yourself feel the same. I guess that makes me the fool.”

The tears flow down Dean’s face relentlessly, leaving permanent burns on his skin as a mark of his pain. There’s no point trying to hide it from Cas now.  
He turns to face him head-on, only to find a man looking just as devastated as he feels staring back. A sob forces its way up from the back of Dean’s throat and escapes before he can stop it, and with it, forces him to take a step closer to Cas.  
Cas is staring at him, his defensive demeanour shifting to one of heartbreak as Dean draws closer. Dean reaches for him when he stands before him; his hand raising to cup Cas’ face gently, who closes his eyes and leans into the touch. Dean can see all the lines on his face now; all the creases of worry, the dark circles under his eyes, and it makes his heart ache. He wants to fix him, he wants to fix this; fix _them_.  
He brings his hand to the back of Cas’ neck and draws him impossibly closer, until their foreheads touch. Dean’s eyes fall closed, concentrating on his breathing. He can feel the heat radiating from Cas, enticing Dean to move closer; closer than he had ever dared to before. But he can’t; _he just can’t_.  
He lets out a sigh of frustration; at the situation, at God, at himself for letting him break yet another good thing. He opens his eyes briefly to study Cas; who is still breathing softly, his eyes shut tightly as if he’s scared to open them. 

Dean raises his head slightly and plants a kiss on his forehead, letting his eyes fall shut again. A kiss he hopes that conveys all that he wants to say but can’t. All the things he should have said long ago but never had the courage. All the love he has for the man in the space before him.  
Cas’ hands come up to his chest and bunch tightly in his shirt, a kind of desperation that Dean can sense and understand. Dean lowers his head again, resting it in the crook of Cas’ neck as he breathes him in. Tears leak from his eyes onto Cas’ skin as his lips mouth apologies into his neck, desperately hoping that Cas will understand.  
They stand like that for what feels like hours; desperately trying to forget whatever was broken between them. They cling to each other, hoping that if they hold on tight enough, this thing between them will mend itself.  
It doesn’t.

All too soon, Cas pulls away from Dean’s arms, his hand coming up to rub at his eyes, which were now red with tears. He looks more tired than he had before, more resigned. Dean longs to reach for him again but he resists. Cas brings his eyes up to meet Dean’s, their usual intensity absent yet Dean still feels them strip him bare. He doesn’t flinch this time though. He allows Cas to see every broken, disgusting part of him; lets him see how full or regret and sorrow he is. He hopes that seeing this will change Cas’ mind about leaving.  
It doesn’t.

Instead, Cas steps back into Dean’s space, his hand coming up to gently brush Dean’s tears from his cheek. Dean allows himself to lean into the touch, relishing in it knowing it will be gone forever. His gaze is still locked with Cas, trying to memorise every inch of the man’s face so it will be burned into his mind forever. He doesn’t want to face a forever without Cas, so he’ll take any part he can get.  
Cas’ soft voice breaks the silence for the last time. 

“I don’t deserve this Dean; neither do you. But the time for fixing things is long overdue, we both know this.” Cas’ voice grows softer with each word, yet each one hits Dean with a blow. “Maybe we missed our window, maybe it’s too little too late. But whatever it is; whatever it _could have_ been, it’s done.”

Dean doesn’t even see him leave. His eyes do, but his mind just fills with ringing as Cas’ hand drops from his face, leaving it cold. His ears hear Cas’ footsteps echoing farther and farther from him, but all he can feel is the warmth of Cas’ skin under his lips, replaying in his mind over and over again like torture.  
He doesn’t notice his body sliding to the floor, his knees drawing close to his chest as sobs wrack through him. His mind and his body separate; one doing all it can to not fall apart and the other so numb it can’t feel itself breaking.

**Author's Note:**

> because obviously 15x03 didn't have enough angst for us all  
> leave kudos & comment if you liked, and maybe next time these two idiots will have a happy ending Xx


End file.
